Life Goes On
by MsSully
Summary: It's been a while. I loved the ending of the show. I loved that it will create fan fiction based on all the characters for many years to come. This is one possible continuation. Is it perfect, no and my proofreading is not as great as it should be because it's been a long day. It's good to be back...
1. Chapter 1

Fiona stood at the window of their kitchen. It was gently snowing and a chill fell over her. It was late morning and Charlie was at the nursery school. She had gone to bed early with a bad case of the stomach flu which seemed to go on for days. At least that's what she told herself.

Michael had let her sleep in and he had taken Charlie. When she finally had gotten up and arrived at the kitchen, she found a pot of tea waiting with fresh brown bread. Michael had headed out to the barn to work on the old ford that he had bought from the elderly gentleman on the neighboring farm. Before she had bathe, Fi had dug out the small package she had gotten at the pharmacy the day before. As she sat on the edge of the tub, she didn't want to believe she was about to do this. How did this happen? Stupid, girl. You know, it's simple biology and a lot wishful thinking. Since they had left Miami, they had been fucking like rabbits, as her mother might have said. It had been completely freeing. Making up for lost time she had told herself. And protection, well she hadn't gotten in trouble before. The reality was that it was all of those things and so much more. There was a silent commitment between them. It was deeper than either of them could fathom.

As each day past and they became entrenched in their new lives, the simple act of being together, sleeping together, moving in the same space seemed as natural as breathing. Their days had become filled with simple acts of being parents. She had found joy in her home. Housework and cooking had replaced bomb making and bank robbery and she didn't miss it in the least. It had hit her a few days before when she and Charlie came home from school. He had begun to develop a lithe in his sentences and bounded out of the car to the barn. Michael had hidden behind the door and grabbed Charlie threw him in the air and they began a game of chase. Soon the three of them were rolling around, laughing. They had come in, changed and Charlie had fallen asleep on Michael. It was not the life she dreamed of. It was so much more.

Now, she stood staring out the kitchen window with a stick in her back pocket that could be answer to every prayer or the beginning of a nightmare.

Michael looked at the old Ford like a metaphor. It always seemed that cars represented what every setting he was placed in. Military vehicles and expensive cars were his spy life. Efficiency or falseness. The Charger was Miami. Cool, sleek, classic. It was Miami. And he loved it. Fixing it up after jobs was in a way what he had been doing to himself. He had told himself that the Ford was to keep himself busy. He needed it for farm work. He knew the reality. So did Fi. This was Ireland. It was about steadiness and reliability and commitment. Fi had come into the garage at one point and sat and watched him work. Then she got a wretch and went to work. It reminded him of the time in Miami when he had first gotten the Charger. A feeling of complete love and admiration washed over him. And she was a better mechanic then he was truth be told.

He had gotten up, got Charlie breakfast and let her sleep. She seemed worn out. And he knew. She might not admit to herself, but he knew and he wanted it. They had gotten on that Lear jet knowing they would never go back. That they were now bound together. She made that choice seven years ago. He had made it two days before. And he was the happiest he had ever been. Scared and terrified and completely devoted and in love with her. She and Charlie were his family. His mother had given him this. Her choices had always defined his. Now, he was the product of this and the mistakes that followed. And he was loved by these two women and this boy.

He had planned for this day since he left Ireland. He had bought the cottage and farm before leaving Ireland the first time. Fi had used it as a safe house and they lived there. It was the place he would go when he needed peace. They were dead and more alive than they ever were. When they finally arrived at the house, Fiona cried. See I never forget his eyes said and they never looked back.

Each night, they put Charlie to bed. Each night, they made love. Violent foreplay had turned into something he could never even imagine. And he wanted this. And it terrified him, but he wanted this. He wanted this family.

He walked past the kitchen window and saw Fi gazing out, tears in her eyes. Oh shit, I knew it could last was his first thought before opening the backdoor.

"Hey, Fi. You ok?" He leaned against the cabinet next to the sink. It always amazed him how they could show affection without touching.

Fiona drew a sip of the tea. "Michael, I've not been myself lately. I thought it was a flu. But, I began to think it might be something else. I got a pregnancy test yesterday." And then she waited to see his reaction.

"Did you take it?"

"Yes and no I don't know the results. I stuck it in my back pocket."

Michael folded his arms. "Why? I think you would feel better if you looked."

"Not quite the answer I was looking for, Michael."

Michael smiled and turned into her and grabbed the stick out of her pocket. "Tell you what, we will look together."

Fi closed her eyes. Then Michael said something she never thought she would hear. "I love you, Fi. Whatever the test says, I love you. I will grow old with you and fix cars with you. We will raise Charlie and live the life we were meant to. And if you want to be pragmatic then you and I both know that the chances are good that you are. Now, do you want know or wait seven months?"

She opened her eyes. He whispered in her ear, "Congratulations, we are going to be parents."


	2. Chapter 2

For Michael, his life was broken into two parts, BFP and AFP. He used the acronyms like he had during his spy days. Before Fi was pregnant had been short lived. They had spent most of the time adjusting to a new life. And then after Fi got pregnant, these adjustments changed with a fury. After Fi wrapped her head around the idea that she was a "human condo" as she once put it after a particularly violent bout of morning sickness; she took the pregnancy on like a mission. She bought every book she could get her hands on. She got every fatherhood book she could get for Michael, because as she constantly pointed out, "we are in this together."

He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing which at times especially unnerving for Fi. What she didn't understand was that he was terrified but there was no way he would show this. Each evening after Fi went to bed, Michael would pour over the baby books studying each chapter and passage like he was preparing for a military maneuver.

Michael had gotten the hang of being a dad to Charlie during this time. He relished in the little boy's hero worship. It was so unlike his own relationship with his father yet it was the relationship he had always wanted. After playgroup, Charlie would wander out to the barn and watch Michael in silent adoration. Then Fi would join them with a snack and Charlie would play hide and seek. At night, one of them would read him to sleep. Charlie seemed like such an easy child. He had Nate's easy ways. At times, Michael would catch him in a certain light and the child that Nate had been was focused on Michael. Michael would then do something that he had never done with Nate. He would hug him, tightly. He would tell him how proud he was of him. He would give him a job and show him how to be successful. He had become the father he never had.

Fiona noticed the change too. Even though she was a hurricane of hormones and would test him, Fi settled into a comfortable security. He was there and loving it. They didn't forget, it just wasn't ruling them. Guns were in locked boxes. They were ruled by family routines. Mornings focused on getting Charlie ready for the day. Michael took this duty over after the morning sickness kicked in. Fi would get up and kiss Charlie off. She would shower and start her routine, making beds and working in her studio. Michael would come back and start working on the cars in the barn. Some of the gentlemen from the town would stop by and ask for advice on mechanics. Michael would take odd jobs, nothing special or memorable. Busy work. Then mid morning, Michael would come in and they would sit together and talk, drink tea and read. Both would devour the papers for news. It was a habit born of necessity. Both knew that off the grid did not mean you stopped looking for the enemy. It meant they thought you were gone.

Some days, Michael would go to the studio and watch Fi work. In Miami, he would glance at her artistry, her paints and inks. But, the art he had valued was her talents with explosives and guns. Now, he saw what she was true meant to do. Both knew that the world would never know the work of Fiona Glennane or even Fiona she had become. Off the grid meant being beige. He began to visit her studio to recognize her work. At one point, he had found a painting that she was working on of Charlie and Michael. It took his breath away. It had a Rockwellian tone but it was gentler. Light filled the frame. She had caught a moment that he wanted to go on forever. After that, he would come up as much as he could to watch her preform some magic that illustrated their lives.

And yet, there were times in the quiet of the deepest night when they both lied awake wondering if it would end and praying that god would keep the monsters away.


End file.
